I visited my friend Brett Aljets‘ church service (Whipple Creek Church in Vancouver, WA) yesterday. I had no expectations, but walked away processing through a lot of stuff in my head that assured me I was at the right place, at the right time, surrounded by the right people. One of the amazing and unexpected things that happened there was when words were put to a spiritual gift I operate under, but that often gets misunderstood: compassion. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines it like this:
Main Entry: com·pas·sion
: sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress together with a desire to alleviate it
Compassion is lower on my list of spiritual gifts, but so many things I do that speak to recognizing distress and trying to alleviate it are very high on my list. This was addressed when I had the opportunity to have two wonderful ladies named Vicky and Angie spontaneously spend some time praying over me following the service yesterday. Vicky made a clear distinction when reading into my heart. She said that I don’t take pity upon others, but that I have a heart for compassion and seeing reconciliation come about. Oh man, how true that was! Reconciliation is something I have dreamed about from the time I first came to know Christ. He was my reconciler and I felt like through my example, others could be reconciled to each other and to him. More recently, I am processing my place as an Asian-American and how those of other cultures and races can be reconciled as well. At the root of it all is compassion. Even when there are deeper issues of pain and hurt that aren’t evident at the surface level, I sense them and try to address them.
In reality, having pity on someone is not something I offer. Feeling someone else’s pain and bearing their burden with them is not something I feel often. However, sensing a hurt or need and addressing it for the sake of healing and moving forward is something I’m immediately sensitive to. I am a fixer. So much so, that I want to fix things even before they become broken. Brokenness and pain are not comfortable places for me, therefore I try to move people (and situations) away from that place and on to a better place.
Thanks to a random, chance meeting with two women named Vicky and Angie, I feel like I can sense a door opening that will lead down a path of renewed hope to a higher calling that helps me fulfill my love for God and putting others ahead of myself. I’ve had people pray and prophesy over me before, but it’s always spoken to my ability to lead and draw out others. Vicky and Angie acknowledged that as well, but yesterday was different. Yesterday, I heard words that so moved those speaking them that they were in tears. Tears rooted in the hope of what will be if I give myself permission to act. Tears of joy and peace in knowing that some small segment of the population could come to know reconciliation through the compassion that God placed in my heart, if I just trust in him. It was a very moving experience and has given me some pause in how I view my situation.
My story isn’t necessarily unique, but its context is. It can only be told by me. It may only be for certain other ears to hear and eyes to see. It’s a story of how the God of love, hope, peace, and joy can speak to me at a time I didn’t feel as if I need to hear his voice, yet he so transformed me so that I could be compassionate to others that may be judged and cast aside by others. My journey is about to take me into the painful and messy environments of the marginalized, but it’s something I feel I have been preparing for my whole life.
Thank you Vicky, Angie, and Brett for an unforgettable (and potentially life-changing) experience yesterday! I am in awe at the wonder of how God works and how he continually has the patience to chisel away myself for the sake of seeing him revealed underneath.
